Daydreams
by TheSmallestInsanity
Summary: SENKIRI LIVES ! New Chapter. Kirihara Akaya is cursed with bad luck, but that can change with the appearance of Lady Luck and Fate's favourite boy, Sengoku Kiyosume. Hilarity, Sadness and Love...not necessarily in that order. ON HIATUS UNTIL 2010.
1. First Dream: Bus Stop

"Why me?!" hissed the dark haired teen angrily at no one in particular. He dropped his bag at the bench at flung himself down in frustration. "And why today, of all days? I WAS ON TIME, GODDAMMIT!" His shout echoed in vain into the forest by the deserted bus stop. "…stupid bus," he muttered, kicking up gravel with a dirty sneaker. Still, the forest did not respond with anything other than the eerie sounds of the crisp wind through dying leaves. Kirihara Akaya shivered in his t-shirt and ripped-up jeans, wishing he could find a sweater, or even have the money to buy one.  
_No, wishing for things doesn't do any good. Can't get myself sad like that. Not today._ Kirihara rubbed his hands against his arms and tried to smile. He was so cold and so tired that he curled up and fell asleep, his arms encircling his thin legs to protect them from the chilling winds. _Wishing's no good_, he thought before dreams overtook him.

Someone was shaking him awake, which brought only murmured protests from the thin form. Kirihara turned over, still in slumber, and nestled himself into the bench even more. A hand placed on his shoulder, and a voice whispered into his ear, "Got a smoke?" The warm breath on his neck jolted him awake, but also off the bench. He opened his eyes to see the trees and darkening sky, everything eeriely still. A figure leaned down into his sleep-clouded vision and smiled at him. It was a very beautiful face that smiled down at him, but Kirihara was instantly wary of the stranger. "What do you want?" he snapped at him. "Or are you a figment of my sleep-deprived brain?"

"Got a smoke?" the figure repeated. Kirihara glared at him for such a trivial disturbance."Hell no. Shove off, I'm waiting for the bus."  
"That's a pretty long wait."  
"What?! It's only half an hour!"  
"No, it's two hours. The next bus comes at 11.00," came the response. Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see that red-headed stranger was about his age, although taller and better dressed. _Not like that's hard to do_, Kirihara thought wryly, until the last comment took him by surprise.

"Eleven? I thought it was SIX THIRTY! HOLY SHIT!"  
The stranger's smile widened, if that was possible. "Just kidding. It's only 8.30. Wanna ride?" He gestured towards a motorbike. Kirihara's jaw dropped, but not at the flaunting of wealth.  
"So…it's only 8.30?!" he asked incredulously. The stranger nodded, and showed the clock on his cellphone. "You seem to be a little hard of hearing," he smirked. Kirihara's eyes narrowed, and then reddened to a bloody film. He swung at the smile, wanting to loosen some teeth in this joker's grin. His hand was neatly caught, and was tossed easily to the floor. The impact hurt a lot more than he anticipated, and he had to fight off the blackness closing in on his vision.

"WHAT THE HELL, YOU BASTARD?!" Kirihara got to his feet to find the bus stop as deserted as when he arrived. He looked around confused and angry_. Did that asshole just take off after throwing me like that?! But there's no sign of fighting, or a motorcycle or anything at all. This day is just bizarre beyond belief._ He sat down, and scratched his head. At this point the sky, dark with storm clouds, opened up and soaked the shivering teenager. He sat in the rain until the bus came, and then sat in the back of the bus  
_Screw having a jacket, I want to beat the crap out of that jerk. And then steal his coat. Aw, who am I kidding? If the rain just puts out his damn cigarette, I'll be happy._

**Hallo everyone, this be Jilleth! Please know that I DO NOT OWN anything with Prince of Tennis! nor do I own SenKiri. (however much I would like that) That happiness is someone else's. (sniff.)Also, story is for BoredNeko, imagine her and Totoro as my muses. Thank You for Your Patronage, Please Review!**


	2. Second Dream: Sexy Back

It was almost midnight when the sullen teenager stepped off the bus, scrowling at the heavily raining sky. The city was so far away now, the rain making it look even more distant. Kirihara liked the isolation here, but whomever had created the rain could go and die (hopefully in a painful manner). He wiped the rain from his eyes, focusing on his goal ahead. His drenched sneakers squeaked as he followed the dirt path past the unused rice paddies, the houses that were in various states of disarray. Finally, he walked through the entrance of the abandoned temple, feeling even worse than he had before that weird dream.

He collapsed in a miserable heap in front of the shrine. The wind blew through the cracked windows, but he was too numb too care, until it pushed the contens of the table off. The picture frame clattered down, breaking the glass and wood into pieces. Kirihara closed his eyes, trying not to cry. They had been bought for most of his money, as the growling of his stomach attested. He bit back his rage and began to clean up the mess. He stopped when his fingers hit the glass, slicing into his skin.  
Kirihara pulled out the photographs from the shattered frame. A group of teenagers laughed and made faces at the camera lens. All wore a standard school uniforms and appeared to be on a playground. Kirihara wasn't among them; he had taken the picture the fall before. _Before I left. Before anything could happen to them. Had to protect my friends._ He sighed and placed it on the table, going over to shut the window. _They're probably really mad at me. But I couldn't let those yazuka punks figure it out and go hurt them. No way. _He sighed and sat back down, pulling off his wet t-shirt and drying himself off with the towel that had been the tablecloth. _Man, we used to have so much fun together. Hanging out and not caring._ Kirihara stretched on the towel, smiling as he remembered the group getting into hijinks, especially at school. _Like that time we blasted Niou's music through the PA system, and locked ourselves into the office so they couldn't stop us. That song, "Sexy back", the one we always would have dance-offs to. Saeki always won, because Niou and Yagyuu were always "preoccupied" and I was always laughing too hard._

_ Where's my cd player?I wanna hear it again._ Kirihara sat up and rummaged around in his well-worn school-bag for the present from his old friends, until his fingers found the cold metal. Please let it still work! he prayed to no one in particular. It sprang to life as he pushed the buttons, music filling the darkened room. He instantly felt warmer, and stood up to dance, carefully avoiding the glass and wood splinters he had swept into a pile. In spite of his bad luck and miserable daily life, he smiled and danced to the song. _Maybe they are playing it too, wherever they are_, he thought, liking the idea.

**I'm bringing sexy back (yeah)  
Them other boys dunno know how to act  
I think you're special, what's behind your back?  
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack.  
**

He turned around in time with the lyrics to see a familiar redhead sitting on the window sill, watching his antics with evident interest. Kirihara's jaw dropped. _Him again? How is this possible? _The redhead's smile remained as he jumped down to the floor, where he looked up at the dark-haired boy.

"No, no, Kiri-kun. Don't let me disturb you. _Please keep dancing_!" he purred. Kirihara closed his mouth, strangely not in anger but in shock. "What the hell, you PERV?!" he finally flung back at him, confused beyond belief. Then the realization that this person knew his name dawned on him. "Who are you and what do you want with me?" he said, feeling fear claw at his stomach, adding "I won't go back!" to convince both of them that he wasn't afraid. The stranger shook his head, explaining, "This is a dream, call me Sengoku-san. Don't worry, I won't hurt you." He paused at the lyrics.

**Dirty babe  
You see these shackles  
Baby I'm your slave  
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave  
It's just that no one makes me feel this way**

"Unless that's what you want, I guess," the redhead smirked, "But it seems like you want to dance, so…..

**I'm bringing sexy back  
Them mother fkers don't know how to act  
Come let me make up for the things you lack  
Cause your burning up I gotta get it fast**…." he sang, standing up and pulling the other boy to him to dance. Kirihara's brain was still trying to deal with what had been said earlier, but he stopped when the redhead pulled him closer.  
"Don't ruin the song like that!" he protested half-heartedly.

"I'm not ruining it, I'm making it more…interesting."  
"…what?"

"See? It's more fun if someone's dancing with you!

"i guess (but i wouldn't call you are doing dancing...)"

"Come on I'll teach you how to dance with me…."

"Ok, if you are my subconcious, why are my dreams doing this to me? am i subconciously gay or something?"

"YES. yes, let's go with that."  
Kirihara was about to protest to Sengoku-san or whatever he called himself, when suddenly the world burst into light and sound. Namely, morning light and birds chirping. Kirihara swore at the return of pain from his slowly bleeding fingers. He sat up on the temple floor and began gathering what he needed for work. _At least my things are dry now. But what the hell does that dream mean?! Who is Sengoku-san?_

**Jillith again, still not owning PoT characters. More love to BoredNeko, who had to wait so long to read this. It shall be worth it, I SWEAR!**


	3. Interlude: Birds

The automated bell rang for the umpteenth time, and the pizza-delivering teenager stood awkwardly waiting the last order of his shift. He ran the fingers of his non-bandaged hand through his soft black hair in sheer boredom, feeling the curls underneath his callused fingers_. How much bloody longer is it gonna take these frat boys? Are they too drunk to find the door? _He sighed and checked his battered watch. _Maybe if they're really hammered, they'll tip me better._ Kirihara smiled at the thought, although it was the sort of smile that implied what he really meant. _Yeah right_.  
Finally the door opened, money was exchanged for the greasy boxes of day-old pizza and, true to form, the frat boys were alternatively drunk or stoned, even at such an ungodly hour. But Kirihara could care less because all that mattered now was cashing in and getting his paycheck. He extracted himself from the doorway and nearly sprinted to the company bike that was his ticket back. The roads and people passed in a colorful blur as he raced the birds_. I think I could be a bird. I could still see all these people, but nothing could bring me down or even catch me. I'll sprout wings, and fly off…_  
A motorcyclist screamed obscenities at him as the teenager cut him off and sped away. Kirihara grinned devilishly and flipped him off, causing more screaming as the light turned red and a wall of fast-moving cars blocked any idea of pursuit. _That's another good thing about birds. No one can do anything if they dump shit on you!_ He screeched to a halt in front of the back entrance of the restaurant, in all likelihood killing the already abused tires, and locked up the bike next to its equals in suffering. The owner had long since given up on telling the boy to slow down, and now simply counted his blessings that his employee was still among the living, and that cars were not needed for pizza delivery. The over-worked owner did not even glance up at the smell of burning rubber that signaled Kirihara's entrance. "Make much?" he asked absentmindedly from his seat among the grease-stained paperwork. Kirihara muttered the amount in response, placing the crumpled bills in the other's view, and went into the storage room to chalk up his hours. _So close to payday and the weekend. Wonder if I still know how to skateboard? I could get one tommorrow after work, and find out. Probably just fall on my ass, though, for all those punk middle schoolers to laugh at.  
_ Kirihara sat down among the boxes, and smiled, the memories inevitably coming back again. _We were just middle schoolers back then, weren't we?It didn't seem so young then, I guess._ He leaned back to the dingy wall, and closed his eyes so that he wouldn't cry the way he had before, when he first came to this city. _It was so hard to leave Saeki, Niou and Yagyuu; they were so much fun.Why did I have to be so stupid?  
_ "_God, you're so stupid."_The voice floated into his mind._ Thanks Dad. Not like he gives a shit. He probably likes the quiet at home now. All the easier to bring home your "secretaries" and "nieces" now that both me and Mom left. Just like you wanted, like you told me every time you got wasted. _Kirihara shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, but only got his hair into his eyes. In the end, he let the memories take over and succumbed to his past, from which no train or bus could take him away.**

* * *

Okay, is Jillith! (PoT ownership is still denied. It always will be.) Next chapter is his past, to help you all understand the storyline better. THANK YOU REVIEWERS! I loves you all. I am sorta busy, so updates will be sporadic, but there WILL be updates. And cookies. (that means you, BoredNeko--channnnn!)**


	4. Flashback: I'm Sorry

Kirihara had just entered the local high school and already he was branded a delinquent by the cut on his cheek and his skateboard stuffed into his ratty backpack. Teachers and students alike kept their distance from the transfer student, but their hushed tones and pointed stares followed him through the corridor as he made his way to the rooftop for lunch period. No one really knew why he had transferred, and the teen was in no mood to discuss the finer points of his arrival. His hand slipped into his pocket and brushed the note from his mother, fingers curling around the paper until it was crumpled into a small wad. He stepped onto the concrete of the roof, shivering under his threadbare jeans. His mind had stopped reeling by now. _I might as well toss the letter; I know it by heart now. "Dear Akaya, I just want you to know that it's better this way. Please try and love your father, it's hard for him. Try to stay out of trouble because the street is a bad way to go for a smart boy like you. Love Always, O-kaa-san." _He could still feel the wetness of the river in the last town, where they found her barely-alive body. She had never responded to treatment and now nothing was really left, just her last words. She had been transferred to the ICU at the better hospital center in this town, and the remnants of their family followed. Her son's hands felt equally dead to the world, but he pulled out the wet paper and flung it violently across the campus in an ink-stained arc. _Shit, now my hand is freezing._

The door behind him slammed shut, but the wind had died down. Instead, three students his age stood in front of it with various expressions of curiosity and amusement. Kirihara narrowed his eyes, and was about to snap at them, when one spoke. "Kirihara, right? Welcome to our group of misfits! I'm Saeki, he's Niou, and he's … Niou's loveslave." The one called Niou merely snickered, while the other rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. Saeki grinned. "Yagyuu is his name." Kirihara blinked at the apparent friendliness in the greeting and the group. "Yeah, I'm Kirihara. Are you guys… delinquents, too? I-I mean, why are you 'misfits'?"  
"Hey, I wouldn't say playing with lighters---"  
"cough_arson_coughcough"

"---is serious enough to label me a deliquent. The skateboarding in the teacher's lounge, maybe, but no one was hurt."  
"Except for the poor window."  
"Poor _window_? I had to get stitches!"  
"You were skateboarding in the teachers' lounge?!"  
"No, he just passed through the window."  
"And maybe through that potted ficus."  
"…"  
"Well, I see we all have a bright future together!"  
"As inmates in a correction center, maybe."  
"Don't be so negative! As inmates, no one will care if I molest you!"  
"…-brain explodes-"  
Kirihara had made some friends.

The group had become closer over the school year, but Kirihara could only explain his situation to a limited degree. Even when his friends questioned the frequent bruises and cuts he tried to hide, he kept the truth from them. But it seemed as though he spent more and more time away from home, sometimes spending weeks at one of the other's house. But one time, the abuse was too noticable to hide from them. Kirihara fled school when he saw his bloody arm and bruised neck in the bathroom mirror. _No way I can tell them. Can't say "Oh, it's just my dad trying to kill me for making my mom try to commit suicide, even though he's too pickled in all that sake to realize it was him. And the rest is just this street gang harassing me because I beat up the head idiot. Don't worry, I'm fine. Who's up for poker? (not strip poker this time, you perverts)" Somehow, that won't work. Guess I'll just hang out at the playground and skateboard. Ow, ow, maybe not. Rite-aid it is. Thank god for painkillers, because owowshit,that hurts._

But when he reached the pharmacy, it was closed for the afternoon. Lady Luck seemed to really have it in for him, because as he turned the corner the sound of motorbikes signaled the arrival of the self-proclaimed "Street King", and his entourage of equally nasty bikers. _Oh nice. If I ever meet the person in charge of luck, I am kicking his ass. If I don't die now._

"Hey, you little punk! Don't feel so tough now, heh heh heh! I'm a send your ass to go visit your mother!" The cronies laughed appropriately, but Kirihara had stopped feeling the sharp pain from his injuries. In fact, after the leather-clad biker had mentioned his mother, he had stopped feeling much of anything. Except for the red clouds of rage that billowed into his vision, feeding his adrenaline and his strength. The gang surrounding him began to feel uneasy to the sight of a smiling demon-like teen whose eyes were bloody red despite his arm and neck.

* * *

Kirihara got off the motorbike and sighed, looking out at the bridge. The fight had taken all the energy out of him, but he couldn't rest now. He was almost home anyway, but the realization of what he had done was seeping into his brain as the red tides of anger receded_. Oh holy shit, I am so screwed. They are gonna hunt me down and kill me. Daddy dearest will probably hand me over to them, too. But I can't go to Saeki's house, or Niou and Yagyuu's flat; they would get involved in this mess_. He kicked the motorbike, and as it toppled off the side of the bridge, an idea formed in his mind. By the time he heard the splash in the murky water, he was already headed towards his father's rundown house to get his worldly possesions and enough money for a train ticket to a town where he could get a job and a new life. _I'm sorry, you guys. I'm the worst friend, but I can't let you get hurt by what I've done. Maybe someday I'll be able to apologize, but for now, I have to run away._ He wiped his eyes, but kept running.

When he reached the house, the sound of his drunken father was muted by the television. Kirihara eased into his room via the window, and packed what little he had into a gym bag. He crept to his father's room, and after relieving all the drinking money he could find, fled the premises to the nearest bus stop. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._


	5. Third Dream: Insane but Happy

In all his reverie, Kirihara had drifted back to the temple in some way, but when he stretched out, he was unable to sleep. The wind blowing through the old temple masked his muted sobs. A touch on his neck made him turn around before he realized his unkempt state. He stared at the ceiling, trying to feel happy that the other was there.

"Akaya-kun, why were you crying?" The red-haired teen ran his fingers through the other's hair, a worried note creeping into his usually non-chalant voice. Kirihara shook him off and stared bleakly out the window. "It's nothing." Sengoku turned Kirihara's face back towards him, an eyebrow raised. "If it was nothing, would you be pouting? Tell me what's wrong."  
Kirihara closed his eyes and told him about the life he had to leave behind. "Even in my dreams, I still think about what happened. But I know I did the right thing. They are safe now. No one else will be hurt because of me." The feel of Sengoku's fingers wiping his eyes made him blush slightly, and he opened his eyes to look up and see a concerned face inches from his. Time stretched so much that even Dali would be proud, but his heartbeat meant only a few seconds had passed.

Their lips met first, but then Sengoku's fingers slid across his neck and pulled Kirihara into his lap. Both of their eyes closed and they wrapped their arms around each other. It didn't matter if he was a figment of a distressed imagination, the tongue that was stroking his neck and the lips that were brushing the tender skin between his neck and his jawline was real enough to him. Kirihara could care less that he had never been intimate in any way before, because Sengoku's kisses made all that dissappear into shivers along his spine. The butterflies in his stomach had spread to the places Sengoku was tracing with his tongue and fingertips. Kirihara squeaked as they toppled over.

His eyes opened as his head hit the pillow, alone in the temple. He turned over, trying to go back to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. He traced his lips with his tongue, trying to remember, until his alarm clock went off. He got up and sighed_. Damn, why does my perfect person……very perfect person……. have to be a sign of my losing sanity?_ He stepped out the doorway and stretched in the morning light.His heart nearly stopped to see motorcycle tracks outside the temple. _No, it can't be. He _took a step back in panic, only to step on a piece of paper. He picked it up, fear flooding his veins, only to see the message written for him:

I had to go, but I promise I'll _more_ than make it up to you.

Sweet dreams, Sen

PS you are cute even when you are crying, but even cuter when you smile. 

Kirihara felt his jaw drop, and his face flush. _Ok, forget losing my mind, it's already long gone. At least I get Sengoku out of the deal. Not bad._


	6. Fourth Dream: Festival

It was the end of school, and the first truly warm night and the town's Summer Festival, all in one. The streets were lined with performers, vendors and people, all in celebration. The best part was that the fireflies were out, making everything seem unreal. Or at least to Kirihara, who sat on the rim of a fountain holding a sparkler. He hadn't remembered that it was tonight, and so his dirty jeans and cotton t-shirt stuck out among the yukata worn around him by the townspeople. Feels like I don't belong, but isn't that how it should be in dreams? Kirihara hadn't decided whether he was awake or dreaming, but he didn't care; it seemed like everyday his two realities merged. He had bought a skateboard, used at a good price, with the last of his pay; he would be walking home without any food or gifts, but he didn't care. It was a warm night, after all.

"Hey, can you tell me…….." Kirihara looked up to see a student staring intently at him. He raised an eyebrow at the unfinished sentence. "What do you want?" he responded. The realization of who the other was followed the eye contact.

The old school mates stared at each other_. Oh damn, does he realize it's me? Sanada, why are you here, of all places?!_ Kirihara was hastily considering the best route to flee the scene when the other one, Sanada, shook his head and continued. "So, do you know where I could find jewelry? I mean, not the girly stuff, more like your necklace…" He trailed off again, and shifted his weight to the other foot awkwardly. Kirihara did not notice; he was too busy coming to terms that he was wearing a necklace_. HOW THE HELL DID THIS……oh, I'm dreaming. That's why! Hahaha, silly me, oh I am so screwed._ He looked up to see the face of Sanada silently questioning his sanity. "Ah, right! This way, I think." _Great, now how do I get rid of him?! If he tells anyone where I am, things will definitely go downhill fast. Lose him in the crowd?_ Kirihara glanced over his shoulder; Sanada was trailing him determinedly_. Ok, bad plan. Hey, if I'm dreaming, I can decide to have a jewelry stall right ahead! That one! Ok, yakitori stand. Damn it. _

Finally, Kirihara spotted a jewelry stand selling similar necklaces to the requested type, and turned to the other. "Eh, is this good enough?" But Sanada was already purchasing things; Kirihara tried to flee, but bumped into someone instead. "Gen-kun! Found you at last." Kirihara realized that he meant Sanada. The two held hands and talked while Kirihara backed away awkwardly. When he had rounded a corner, he broke into a run_. Guess he was here to visit his boyfriend. Still, I'd better not run into any more schoolmates. Ex-Schoolmates._ The dark-haired youth flopped down by a Jizo shrine and exhaled heavily. Out of respect, he placed a stone at the base of the little figure as it stared out over the river._ So tired. I'm ready to wake up now, even if I didn't see Sengoku-san. I hate being alone. _

* * *

I AM SO SORRY!!!! Life's been hectic lately and so I have been pressed for time. Junior year sucks. At least I'm not in hospitals this time, eh? I will try to write a lot more, ok! SO REVIEW, and tell me what you wanna see! XD love to my fanbase, however small it may be! 


	7. Interlude: Confusion and Reality

The almost dead sparkler trembled in Kirihara's grasp at the sound of his own name, but when he turned instinctively, it was not the redhead he longed for. It was Sanada, who had somehow found him again. Kirihara immediately regretted turning around, as now his identity had been confirmed_. Oh no. No, please don't let this be happening, not when everything was safe. Please,_ he silently begged any listening deities, _don't let everything fall apart like this._

Sanada narrowed his eyes at him. "Look, maybe you got involved with those bikers or maybe your dad tried to kill you, or whatever happened. But you can't just run away. Saeki and Niou and Yagyuu were your best friends, and you left them with no explanation. They didn't know if you were DEAD or not, you idiot!" Kirihara might have been surprised by the suddenness of the attack, but the word Dead echoed in his brain. He rallied and snapped back at the figure standing over him. "They would be dead if I hadn't left! If I told them, they'd get involved and get themselves killed! Leaving without any notice was the only way to protect them from…from…" He trailed off, knowing if he said anything else he would unravel, more than he had already started to.

"Your father is in jail for harassing young women, and won't be out for awhile. Those bikers are still there, but they are disorganized and weak. After all, their leader was killed two days before you were reported missing. You have to return, unless you want more to deal with later on." Sanada's words shook Kirihara even more. The pain he had tried to suppress since his arrival in this small town exploded inside him, but he managed to respond. "Can't go back. There's nothing to go back to anymore." _No Mother, no Father, friends have moved on to another grade, and…no…_ "Sengoku."

"What about him? How do you know him, anyway? He came to our school after you left," Sanada replied, his confusion evident. When the dark-haired boy did not respond, Sanada grabbed his shoulder and hauled him upright. "Did you know Sengoku-san, Kirihara?"

The mention of his name brought Kirihara back to reality. "He's a real person?!" he asked incredulously, grasping Sanada's wrist to steady his reeling mind. "Alive, flesh and blood? Real?" Something strange flashed across Sanada's face, but it was gone just as quickly. "If you go to our town and ask anyone at school about Sengoku Kiyosumi, they will know exactly who you mean." He released his grip on Kirihara's shoulder and walked away. Despite the shock, Kirihara noticed that Sanada was hiding something from him. He followed him unsteadily until Sanada turned around again.

"Just go back, already! I'm not answering anymore of your questions. Find out for yourself, and go fight your own battles, instead of running away. I should find my boyfriend." With that he mingled into the crowd and was gone. _Boyfriend. Is Sengoku __**my**__ boyfriend? He said he was in my mind, but he's real! Sengoku-san, what's going on? Where are you?! _Kirihara returned to the Jizo statue by the river, confused and waiting for the person he wanted to see. _Or to make out with, once I understand what's going on._

* * *

So…the plot thickens! What is Sanada not telling Kirihara? Who is Sengoku, and why is he in Kirihara's life? Or, most importantly, why ISN'T he in Kirihara's life? Right now? Molesting him? Or something of that nature?! (please don't kill me) Don't Worry! Sengoku will make an entrance in the next chapter. I swear he will, not just be mentioned. And there will be making out. For all the SenKiri Fans out there. Love from the author, who still doesn't own this manga, anime, characters etc. (sorry if sanada comes off weird, I don't know him very well. I'll leave that to yukimura.) 


	8. Fifth Dream: Light conquers darkness

The clock in the town square began to ring solemnly, signalling that midnight had arrived. Kirihara opened his eyes to see the inside of the abandoned temple once more. He had walked back after encountering an old schoolmate, Sanada, who had raised more questions than he had answered about Kirihara's situation. Especially regarding a certain red-haired lover, who had been absent as of late. Kirihara sat up, running his fingers through his curly hair, remembering how other fingers had done the same. _Is it really my imagination? Sengoku! Am I insane?_ The intense pain within, a mixture of emotional pain and hunger, caused him to draw his knees to his collarbone. He wrapped his arms around them, feeling his body tremble. His vision had blurred and distorted as his eyes steadily moistened_. I asked someone up there to protect my friends back home, to not cause my efforts to crumble. They must be mocking me, those cruel deities. I don't know what to do anymore. _He bit his lip to stop the tears, but to no avail. His lip bled slowly as the tears trickled out of his closed eyes. He could feel his body shaking to hold back sobs, which escaped as whimpers. _Damnit, I'm so pathetic. I'm so weak and cowardly I can't even make things right. I ran from my own life, and won't even return to protect those it might affect. I'm cold, starving, crying and …is this how Mother felt? Alone, unprotected, with so many problems. I never told her I cared, no one did, and she went and jumped off a bridge to end it all. And Father? unable to accomplish anything, so pickled in sake he couldn't escape his life, wanting closeness but with a comatose wife and a deliquent son? Why is life like this? _He fell deeper inside himself, his hope dwindling steadily.

A thumb wiped away his tears while running fingers through his soft black hair. Arms encircled his shaking frame, while lips tenderly brushed his forehead. He felt himself being rocked and murmured to, and hope swelled within him, buoying him up from the coldness. He wasn't shaking so badly now and so nestled closer into the source of warmth. _Sengoku_ His eyes opened when he felt a tongue gently lick his lower lip, and the taste of salt from blood and tears reach his mouth. He stared up at the familiar face in front of him, listening to their heartbeats, not wanting to ever release his grip on his lover.

Sengoku leaned in close to his face, turquoise eyes intensely concerned. "Tell what's wrong, Kirihara. I never want you to be so alone that you cry yourself to sleep. Please tell me." Kirhara wrapped his arms around Sengoku, voicing his fears about his family, leaving his friends and being unable to help them. He started to mention his fears about insanity, but quickly dropped his eyes to the ground. "I met someone from school, no one I knew that well, but I couldn't tell if it was actually happening. And he said…that you were real, and went to that school. I thought that maybe this had never happened, that I was crazy and that I was alone…without you."  
Sengoku gently pushed his chin up to meet his eyes. "My body exists elsewhere, that's true. But I am here in your subconcious. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about." He looked at Kirihara, with a smirk. "But as things are now, we won't get much talking done." Kirihara blushed, but managed to smirk back, his impish self returning. "Well, I'm planning to sleep in late." "Good plan. We can talk later."

* * *

Ah, i'm sorry for the depression at first. I needed to get over the mass of hatred Kirihara had for his past. Now it is love and happy! even if it's serious later on, but que sera sera! 

PS. I'm not gonna write any of yaoi for you. I'd need more review power for that. Later, perhaps, but i'm trying to finish the story.

LOVE (anshin anshin) TO ALL.


	9. Fifth Dream: Aftermath

To all the fan: I'm sorry for late updates! Here is a lot of fanservice to make up for it. (still not owning PoT characters)

* * *

The clocktower bells rang out two in the morning, but neither prone figure seemed to notice the sound as they lay still and entwined on the temple floor. Kirihara was nestled firmly into the curve of Sengoku, hearing only his breathing, his heartbeat;

all that mattered was the feeling where their skin met. _So wait, is this losing my virginity? or is it my mind's virginity that was lost? Does it count? When I wake up, will it be physically sore? or maybe I'll just have a headache._ Kirihara bit his lip to refain from giggling. _Ok, we need to discuss serious things soon, so I can't laugh, even if I just had sex in my mind. Sex in my sleep? Heehee…Wait, no giggle! Eep!_ Kirihara tasted blood as he bit his lip again. He released his lip but instantly regretted it. Sengoku opened his eyes at the hiccup escaping from Kirihara.

"You okay?" he murmured into the other's ear, soft voice betraying concern. Kirihara squeeked again, managing a "Yes." Sengoku sat up, half pulling Kirihara up as well. The other couldn't hold it in any longer and they toppled over once more as Kirihara cracked up laughing.

He gasped for breath, hiccuping sporadically. "Sorry, I just thought (hic) about the logic of what (hic) happens when my mind loses (hic) its virginity…" He giggled again, leaning against Sengoku. which was a mistake as he felt soft fingertips begin to tickle him micheviously. "No, ahahaha, stoppit, heeheehee!" Kirihara wriggled out of reach still laughing. Sengoku smiled. "That was for making me worry." Kirihara smiled back, and attacked him, tickling voraciously. "Then (hic) this is for making _me_ worry!" Sengoku countered by pulling his lover against him and running his hands over the other's chest, his fingers through the curly black hair. Kirihara eagerly responded with a small sigh that Sengoku cut off with a kiss, his tongue probing at the blood there, causing Kirihara to squirm under his grip with the sting. Sengoku licked his inner lip one last time, then pulled away. "Get some clothes on."


	10. Sixth Dream: Past and Present

They sat down facing each other, feeling the tension rise in the room. Sengoku exhaled slowly at the same time Kirihara inhaled. "Well--" "So--" "You go first." "Ah, ok…" Both were silent for a few more heartbeats. Kirihara looked up from the ground and stared at the red head in shock. "You--" "What's wrong?" "You…you're disapearing…" "Damn. We don't have much time." "Sengoku-kun…?" "We'll just have to do this the hard way. Close your eyes." Kirihara closed his eyes obediently, but they flung open at the sensation of Sengoku's hand passing through his head. "Wha?"

He slowly registered his surroundings, even though it seemed to make no sense. _A train. Alright, good metaphor. Now what the hell does it represent, damnit? _The conducter's voice announced the stop, to Kirihara's surprise. _That's where I got off when I ran away…Am I in the past?!_ The people around him got up and streamed through the doors. He stood and was about to follow when a black-haired teenager in a dirty tee-shirt and ratty jeans ran by him and out the doors. _Wait, WHAT? That was me, right? I'm so confused. Sengoku-kun, where are you? _The doors closed on a near-empty train and began rushing through the darkness of the underground, the automated clock reading 4 pm. _No, he's headed to that bus stop, asking for a cigarette from me. Heh, and I'll be freezing my ass off without my…jacket…Didn't I leave it on the train? It should be right…there! This is crazy. Well, I can get it back now._ He stood up again to retrieve the school jacket with his name written in sharpie on the sleeve, but was slammed back into his seat by the abrupt stop. _Ouch. Damn you, Fate!_

The invocation did not go amiss, as a very handsome red head in nice clothes strolled on and sat next to the jacket. "Sengoku!" No response. "Sen-kun!" Kirihara felt embarrassed at the pet name, but that would have at least caused a reaction. The past version of Sengoku picked the jacket. "What the hell does it say? Some kid's name?" he read from the sleeve. _So what, my marker slipped on the kanji! It's not that bad… _"What school? Oh! I'm transferring to this high school…I hope not all of them write this badly_." YOU BASTARD! I'll get you back for that._ He tucked the jacket into his bag and pulled up his hood. _That's mine, punk!!_ The redhead put in his earphones, and smiled lackadaisically. Kirihara's heart stopped and all thoughts of vengeance disappeared. They sat there for a while, the train swaying them back and forth through stop and the passengers coming and going.

Kirihara was attempting to reason out the highly illogical events surrounding his past and present selves. _Ok, I ran away the same day that Sengoku transferred in to the high school. I have dreams of him until he vanishes; am I following his past until the present? Will I wake up then? I must have pissed Fate off something horrible to get this tangled in reality._A rustling distracted him from his stream of unconsciousness; The redhead had pulled a letter from the pocket of his jeans and carefully unfolded it. A flash of emotion clouded his brillant green eyes. Kirihara winced at the expression; he felt the pain stabbing into the past Sengoku. It passed in a moment, but Kirihara felt himself move over and into the adjacent seat. He wrapped his arms, existant or not, around the muscular torso. "I'm scared too," he murmured into his ear. He closed his eyes. _Half an hour until the end of this train ride, and I really only know that Sengoku is not supposed to be in my dreams. He's supposed to be at my school. The people at the town will know him; that's what Sanada said, right? But he was hiding something from me._ Kirihara glanced at Sengoku's watch and groaned inwardly. _Correction, less than half an hour until our stop and I know jack_.

He buried his face in the shirt collar, counting heartbeats until a small noise distracted him. The redhead had set the letter aside and ran a cursory hand through the strands of hair falling about his face, pulling some to the side. Kirihara was far more interested in the letter. _Son, I'm leaving your mother but I can't take you along with me. Stay strong for O-kaa -san's sake. Love, Pappa_. Kirihara dropped it as if it were on fire, yet he felt numb. "_Dear Akaya. Love, O-kaa-san." _Sengoku next to him shivered as if cold, and then pulled out the jacket. He put it on, and smirked. "Small, but it'll do." Kirihara embraced him again, willing warmth to reach him. A slowly darkening image was forming in the raven-haired boy's mind, and it scared him. _Oh god. What have I done?_

Yo! I'm out of school, and this story will be wrapped up ASAP. Apologies for not uploading faster, but life has been wonky. Anyway, THE PLOT THICKENS!! maybe it just is gettin chunkier. Hmm. And no, Kirihara is NOT molesting Sen here. He's attempting to keep him warm, like a blanket. (coos)

REVIEW. If I get 5 reviews, I'm putting up two new chapters. More and you get some fanservice. PLEASE?! love to all, Jillith

* * *


	11. Sixth Dream: Here We Are

Still on the train in someone else's past, Kirihara Akaya had a very dim idea of what was going on. It had taken awhile, but his mind was slowly wrapping itself around the idea. Nevertheless, he held on to the redhead beside him who was shivering in an abandoned jacket and clutching a crumpled letter. The redhead's earphones played music softly, barely audible over the train.

**Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write**

**Kind of turn themselves into knives**

**And don't mind my nerve you can call it fiction**

**'Cause I like being submerged in your contradictions dear**

**'Cause here we are, here we are**

Kirihara felt as if he had fallen into icy waters, pulled down by his mother's hands and the remnants of a stolen motorcycle. Sengoku's suffering curled tendrils of fear through his stomach, bringing back memories once repressed in the darkest corners of Kirihara's mind. _"All you do is bring back luck and suffering to those who care for you. If you were dead, maybe your mother would come back to life". "Dear Akaya." I'm sorry. _Then came the images of forgotten nightmares where his mother lay unconcious, half dead from water and abuse. Kirihara shook his head, nestling it further to the heartbeat he sought. _I'll make things right for everyone, I promise._

He gritted his teeth against the tide of despair and focused on the rumble of the train. When his mind felt suitably clear and the taut skin underneath his touch felt warm again, kirihara took a deep breath and began speaking to the air. "Let's get a few things straight here." _No one can hear me, so it's ok. "_Sengoku sent me into his past, and as far as I can tell, the chain of events is:

I ran away from home after fighting a motorcycle gang.

I lost my jacket on this train.

Then Sengoku picks it up, as he's moving to the town.

After he has arrived in town, something or some event causes him to be connected to me.

He appears in my dreams, urging me to help him.

Someone who knows about him—Sanada—believes it to be my fault.

If I follow this memory, or past or whatever, I can figure out what the event was." He paused. _But…then what do I do?_ "I'll just have to see," he declared, forcing bravado into his voice. He had no way of really knowing the time, but he glanced over at the clock. His heart nearly skipped a beat.

The stop which led to his hometown was next, and the signs were steadily appearing for the exit. With a chime, the doors opened. Sengoku stood up, stretched and walked off with his bag. No one noticed, but another boy trailed after him into the light outside.

* * *

I gots me some reviews, so a drablet for you all to read. Don't worry, next chapter advances the plot. (Everyone was confused as to what is happening, so I tried to clarify.) I LOVE YOU ALL

jason mraz lyrics, PoT characters (not owning)


	12. Sixth Dream: Collision Course

The room itself was very nice, albeit small. Kirihara sat on the lower step of the spiral staircase leading to the loft, highly impressed. The flat had a balcony, private restroom and kitchenette, besides the loft bedroom. The red head had checked in half an hour before, paid the advance on the rent and taken a nap; Sengoku was now peeling and eating apples on the balcony. Kirihara glanced at the seated figure over his shoulder, jealousy vying with pride for control of his emotions. _Well, he's certainly not struggling class. Or working class, probably. Lucky bastard. Has everything, life is set out before him and all that. Except he's miserable. I guess it doesn't matter what you got, lonely is lonely all the same. _Kirihara strolled over to the balcony and perched on the edge, dangling his feet into the air. He could see half the town. There was the bridge they had trailed across from the train station, and the little stores in the center of town. His eyes settled on the school._ It looks small from here. Hey, there's the roof spot where I used eat lunch with Saeki and NiouYagyuu. Wait, shouldn't Sengoku-kun be in school? He would go here; maybe he's going next week. _

Kirihara swung around, his hands grasping the sturdy bar, knees hooked around to clasp the railing. He stared at the (now-upside-down) Sengoku, who was still wearing his jacket. _Maybe he'll be a Misfit, too. I can't imagine him being happy with popularity. Yeah, he'd be an outcast from society, but he'd use the cool kids for whatever he wanted, plus getting to look way sexier. Popular kids are kinda boring with their choice of clothes and hair and all._ His knees protesting, he lowered himself onto the balcony floor, legs slipping between the iron bars, out into open space over the street below, four floors down. Cushioning his head in his arms, Kirihara lay (and Sengoku sat) staring at the clouds that seemed to be gathering, darkening amid the sounds of the city.

Kirihara had expected to pass a sleepless night, guardian-angeling over the redhead, but instead found the bed untouched save the letter, tossed over the sheets haphazardly. He had lost himself staring out over the city and hadn't noticed the departure. Cursing, he ran down the flights of stairs as fast as he could. _Why didn't I realize he was going out? Why am I so bloody stupid, useless, son-of-a… and why does it hurt to run this fast? I'm fcking dreaming, I'm dreaming what already happened to someone else, in the past, someone who is in severe danger because of one back-ass-ward piece of shit like me. Damn, where did he go?! Argh, if I lose him, I'm really, REALLY fcked. Oh god…_ He had reached the ground level, to see a flash of red hair and familiar jacket disappearing around the corner. Kirihara sped after him. _How does he move so damn fast?_ wondered the panting teenager as he failed to gain on the other. All thoughts were cut off as he had to skid to a halt, wincing at the grind on his shoddy shoes.

Sengoku was unlocking a red motorcycle, pulling the jacket hood over his head against the oncoming rain so that only a few stray wisps of hair remained visible. Sengoku pulled out a spray can of metallic black and tagged, in messy letters, a message:

**You Feelin' Lucky, Punk?**

It was beginning to rain, but Kirihara understood why he was in this memory, and wiped away tears of frustration. He wouldn't be able to prevent what had already happened. He would only be able to watch as Fate took over, speeding up events and circumstances until his world--and the world of the one person he cared for--collided into blackness.

* * *

ZOMG! i've been really busy, with art class and Otakon (EEEEEEE) and job. I'm working on finishing Daydreams, and I SWEAR to all my fans, whom i adore! that I will finish this year. I have a rough plan for an Epilogue, but I'm full-throttle on writing the conclusion. It won't make true sense until two more chapters, but rest assured there is a plot and a point to my madness. I LOVE YOU!! i have gotten so much positive reviews that I just have to give you cookies. They will be soon!

clint eastwood, i couldn't resist. heh.


	13. Sixth Dream: Overboard

Despite the icy, pelting rain and winds battering them, the two figures on a motorbike pressed on through the slick streets that were increasingly vacant. The neon signs seemed to float in midair throughout the downpour before rushing by. Distant sounds of trains and cars melded together, mixed up radio and chatter sparked in the air like synapses. The rider seemed unaffected, while the passenger huddled closer in against his back. Witnesses would later describe the rider as wearing a school jacket of some sort, with flames of hair pressed to a face obscured by shades. Although they could not agree on whether a passenger was also on the motorbike, all confirmed the rider to be smiling.

Kirihara was not crying, as he told himself, not at all. He felt disgusting, soaked, dirty and insane. If it had been any other rider, he would have thrown himself off and hoped for a quick end. But he clung on for Sengoku, because even hell would not be enough to break his grasp. _I am not going to let what I've screwed up on kill you. Because the gang I fought with before I ran away wants to kill me, and you have my jacket and a red motorbike._ He swallowed, clenched his teeth. The bridge loomed up ahead, presiding ominously over dark waters. As if on cue, thunder echoed, rolling around the sky. And despite the heavy sheen of the rain, Kirihara saw the motor lights ahead. _Oh Fck._

"Came back, eh, tough guy?" a thuggish rider growled. "Just cause you got away with the ride, don't mean nothing to us."  
"What the hell are you saying? Speak properly, I can't understand you idiots." Kirihara winced as Sengoku slowed down with an evil smile. That's not gonna help…now they don't care if you aren't me. And indeed, the leaderless gang cracked knuckles and spat, revving their motors in anticipation.

It happened quite fast, considering the tendency of street gangs to draw out their enjoyment. Sengoku was in fighting form, wickedly taking out riders with a powerful hook, until the second-in-command drew a shiv and cut him down. Kirihara, for his part, managed to take most of the blow. He struggled to stay conscious, knowing all the while he was powerless to Fate.

When the last blow was thrown, the redhead was coughing up blood. Kirihara cradled his body, trying to get him on his side while fighting off red waves in his own vision. The rain was icy, boring into the shaking frames, and the gang knew something was wrong. Kirihara felt Sengoku's body grow heavy, and lost control. Despite being in a dream, he felt his fist connect to flesh very solidly. They could not see or hear him, but he made sure they could feel his presence.

"That son-of-a…'s unnatural! He ain't human!" "And sure as hell that's not the kid from earlier." "Toss him over the side before he kills us."

Kirihara's vision cleared to see the still form clear the barrier and crumple into the water like the old motorbike had.**_ No._** He dove after, unthinking except for the racing heart in his chest pounding out resistance. _No, No, No._


	14. Sixth Dream: Drowning

_You, there on the bridge  
where have you been, what's your name? _

_and you, you there on the wall  
where will you go to once you fall?_

_you, lost at sea  
do you need me, do you need directions?_

Kirihara coughed, weighed down as he sought the air. His arms had found what they sought, yet the waters around him seemed to pull at the body, dragging it to them with an unrelenting force. He was slipping, choking on salt. Black hair swirled around his face mirroring the darkness he felt creeping in around the edges. His vision became murky as his legs lost strength, thinking half-coherent thoughts. _No, can't drown, it's just dream, not really happening…but it's his reality. _Kirihara choked, but kept on swimming towards the shoreline. It seemed distant, and blurry. _Can't stop…_

_i'm so sick and tired of the  
the taste of tears  
the sting of pain  
the smell of fear  
the sounds of crying_  
_as you standing at the edge of your life  
what do you remember?  
was it all you wanted?_

**Niou, Yagyuu and Saeki, getting spray paint everywhere but the side of the school, laughing so loud it hurt, burning lungs and aching stomach. **_**You guys can't do anything right, guess that's why I fit in.**_

**Getting beaten up by motorcycle thugs, then by Dad. **_**He didn't always look that old, did he?  
**_**Crashing at someone's house, dizzy but denying anything wrong**_**. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just tired, lemme sleep, I'm fine.**_

**A woman in a white kimono, tied the wrong way, her face bloated and distorted. **_**It can't be O-Kaa-san. She wouldn't she would never…. Oh god, she's smiling.**_

**That redheaded bastard with blue-green eyes and a smirk, delicious but now broken and still. **_**Can't…have to…**_

i_ can barely take it  
i don't think i can make it  
take me away from here  
I want to go home  
_

Kirihara was going down, steadily losing oxygen_. Damn it all. Stupid jerks who drown, who jump off bridges, stupid. Eh, what the hell is that?_ His foot had touched something hard and metallic. It was the original motorbike, propped up by the debris of the river. _And I'm definitely dreaming_. Because sitting on the bike was an older woman with curly black hair and a long white dress. She smiled at them, and put on sunglasses. Kirihara gaped at her before she picked up the boy he clung to and revved the engine.

_Okaasan?_

_i wish i could protect you here  
oh, please don't cry  
now smile as you're standing  
at the edge of your life  
your troubles are over  
mine are just beginning_

_  
_I'll take him from here, Akaya. He'll reach the shore.  
No! He has to live, I can't…  
He won't be crossing the river yet, dear. I'm taking him to the real shore.  
Okaasan…  
Wake up, Akaya-kun.

_if only i could have been there  
i'd be a hand for the sinking  
if only i could have been there  
i'd be a prayer for the dying_

"What?"

"Wake up, young sir. Are you all right?" Kirihara opened his eyes to see an older monk prodding him with broom cautiously. It was morning, and he lay on the wooden floor gasping for air.

its me you leave  
you're gone from here  
don't leave from here  
don't leave me here  
I hate it here  
you're gone from here  
don't leave me here  
I need you here  
I need to see you smile

* * *

nyone reading this, I love you. It's been almost all of high school tht I've been writing this. We are almost done...3 chapters and an epilogue to go. I assure you it won't be as awful as this stuff. plese review!!!

Feathery Wings Lyrics owned by Voltaire  
Prince of Tennis owned by manga-ka. I OWNS NOTHING.

it gets better, ok, so no worries. ie more Sen, more SenKiri.


	15. Interlude: Homecoming

Kirihara picked up the run-down payphone as people milled around him, and remembered he had nothing to call with due to the train fare. Either he would call collect, or … no other options presented themselves readily in his mind, but he hesitated nonetheless, residual pride welling up from some corner of his psyche. He dialed anyway.  
"Operator?" His stomach was in knots.  
"Collect call to Yagyuu Hiroshi, please," he muttered, glancing at the yellowing phonebook.  
"Just one moment." Kirihara exhaled, a last ditch attempt to calm down despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins—for no good reason, even. I've been jumpy and wired all day. Geez, talk about out of it…  
The was a click on the other end. "Who the hell is calling me collect at this time of day?" a voice intoned angrily. Kirihara smirked in spite of himself, hearing a muffled voice of protest in the background. He knew what was going on, but decided to rile them about it later.  
"Well, Niou-sempai, it's technically night-time, but since you're—or should I say Yagyuu is—the one paying, I suppose it can be anything you prefer." A stream of cursewords followed, as Kirihara imagined his friend looking positively livid. Whether it was from being disrupted or being figured out, he couldn't tell. The protesting voice in the background was laughing. Niou's cursing slowed to a relatively manageable stream and then a muffled discussion. Kirihara glanced offhandedly at a nearby clock. He hoped the two get back to talking to him at some point.  
"Akaya. How have you been?" asked the other end of the line in a similar tone. Kirihara sighed, relieved to get a more straightforward conversation.  
"Ever the polite one, Yagyuu-san. I've been a horrible delinquent as of late."  
"While I have no comment on your activities, your whereabouts might have been somewhat helpful." Kirihara felt a sharp pang of guilt, but refused to acknowledge it. Yagyuu continued to read him the riot act.  
"I understand your need for discretion concerning your father—" In the background, a more Niou-esque voice commented about 'general abusive bastards who deserved what they got' until it was shushed and Yagyuu carried on once more. Kirihara bit his lip, and cut him off mid-reprimand.  
"I need a favour."  
The other end was quiet from both parties. Kirihara rushed on, stumbling over words while trying to joke. "And this time, I will actually pay you back. Not like the whole pocky deal, I swear—"  
"Excuse me?" Yagyuu said quietly, causing him to wince.  
"Look, I know I'm a sorry excuse for a friend, but this is possibly the most important thing I've ever—"  
"What the hell, Akaya?" Niou practically yelled into the phone. Kirihara realized with a sinking feeling that they did not believe him anymore. The friends he trusted thought it was just another exaggeration, another prank. "A favour? You think you can just disappear and then expect us to drop everything to play with you? If you think—"  
"Please." Desperation leaked into his voice despite his best efforts. Niou sighed.  
"You little…"  
"Meet me at school in, I don't know, ten minutes, ok?"  
"Hell no. You tell us what's going on, or so help me God, I will never give you the time of day again."  
"I can't. Believe me, I want to but—"  
"And neither will Yagyuu. Or Saeki." Kirihara's eyes widened at the idea. He had forgotten that Saeki was unaware of the conversation. He'll be even angrier than Niou. He'll be ready to kill me…  
"Don't tell Saeki," he muttered.  
"You bastard…"  
"I will explain at the schoolyard. I mean it. And then you can beat the pulp out of me, ok?"  
"You had better."  
"I promise." He hung up and bolted for the school, wondering how to get his friends on his side. His promise weighed heavy on his mind, but he ran anyway.

Oh god. College has been eating my life. I will be posting ASAP. To everyone who has read, still reads, or is just reading, I love you all. This story will continue, but I'm writing everything out before I finish up. When I have the final chapters, I'll post them all, and the epilogue in one crazy upload. SENKIRI FOR LIFE.


	16. Interlude: Punching Bag

"And then I'll leave you the hell alone, alright? I'll be gone, so just quit popping a vein, prettyboy. I'll be 100% not there." Saeki kicked an empty bottle, hard. It missed the wall and smashed into the curb onto which Yagyuu was standing languidly. Niou shrugged his shoulders up and down to keep warm in the evening air.  
"You are already 100% not there, man. You're stone-cold fucking insane,"Saeki muttered. Kirihara laughed, harshly even for his standards.  
"I wish. Just this favor, then I'll…be like a dream." _Like a dream? I guess that's what it's always been._ "I just need to see my mother…"  
"No, wait. I'll help. Even if you don't want to stay, you should be able to say goodbye to your mother." Yagyuu paused, not looking at Kirihara, probably due to bringing Saeki along. "She's in the hospital too, right?"  
Niou glared. "No, I know you better than that. At least, I thought I did."  
"W-what?"  
"Sanada-san told me you mentioned a certain person…" Kirihara paled, and looked away. The lamp lighting threw his face into contrast. Saeki stared, unbelieving.  
"You are lying to us? First you disappear for months on end after not telling your own friends what's going on, Sanada of all people sees you at a goddamn Matsuri in who-the-hell-knows-where-country, and the first contact I've had with you, you are simultaneously asking for a favour and LYING TO MY FACE?!" Kirihara was silent, as if a ragdoll held up by the brick building. "Fuck you, Kirihara. I don't need this," he murmured softly, stepping back. Kirihara's vision swam as tears made their way to his eyes. Saeki's face contorted suddenly into vivid rage, unable to bear the sight. Then he swung.  
Kirihara felt the impact before he realized Saeki had punched him. He staggered and fell into the lamplight. Everything was receding from him into darkness. Some part of his brain realized with horror that he was losing consciousness from lack of food, proper sleep, and stabbing pain in his ribcage. He hit the asphalt, hard.  
"Kirihara!"  
"He looks awful, he must be starved to death!"  
"Why did he come back?"  
"Why'd you hit him like that?"  
"I didn't realize he was so sick….Geez, he's burning up!"  
At the sense of a hand across his forehead, Kirihara opened his eyes and tried to sit up, fighting off fainting. The three supported him, mixes of emotions on their faces.  
"Oh hell, man, what have you done to yourself?"  
"There isn't…"  
"Don't try to speak. We'll call an ambulance, it'll be fine."  
"No,… there isn't time for that… Time is running out, I have to go…"  
"You can't even walk, man!"  
"Drive me to the hospital and make a distraction. I'll sneak in and see him."  
"Who the fuck are you talking about?"  
"Kiyosume Sengoku." Kirihara tried to stand, to no avail.  
"Still confused over here."  
"I'll get the car. You two, watch him."


End file.
